


Collected Hawksilver Ficlets

by respoftw



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Christmas, Crack, Established Relationship, Flirting, Fluff, Getting Together, Hurt Pietro Maximoff, Hurt/Comfort, Jewish Pietro Maximoff, Kid Fic, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Minor Wanda Maximoff/Vision, One sided Steve Rogers/Pietro Maximoff, Reincarnation, Stucky - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-04-05 11:26:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 45
Words: 18,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4178022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/respoftw/pseuds/respoftw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of my super-mini tumblr drabbles that are too short to warrant their own post.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Happy Fathers Day

Clint really misses his kids.

He’d planned to take the weekend off and just be a Dad, leave his Avengering aside for just one weekend wasn’t too much to ask, right?

Try telling that to the bad guys.

It’s 8pm Sunday by the time they save the day and all Clint wants is a long, hot shower and maybe if he’s lucky he’ll manage to Skype Cooper and Lila before they head to bed.

After washing the grime and grit off, he pulls on his softest tshirt and pyjama bottoms and pads into the bedroom, heading for his tablet and hoping that Laura has let the kids stay up on the offchance that he’ll call.

Imagine his surprise when he finds Cooper and Lila bouncing excitedly on his bed.

“What the - - How the - -?”

Lila’s grin shows another missing tooth as she runs over to hug him. “It was Uncle Pietro! We went really fast! Mom was mad when he showed up all bloody and dirty but then she let us go with him. It was fun! And plus we get to see you! Happy Dad Day! I made you a drawing but it blew away. But Pietro says he’ll get me crayons and I can draw another one! But then he fell asleep. Can you get me crayons?”

Clint’s head is spinning as he presses kisses into his motor mouth daughter’s hair. Cooper’s much more stoic but still not too old to let his Dad pull him in for a manly hug.

And now that he’s caught up, he can see Pietro. Bruised and scraped from several near misses over the past couple of days, the kid is slumped over Clint’s desk, exhaustion caught up to him.

Clint can’t quite believe that the kid actually did this for him. He’s going to have to do something extra special to thank him for this. Later though. He’s still got three hours of Fathers Day left and he’s gonna make the most of the amazing gift that Pietro has given him.


	2. Birthday Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asker Anonymous Asks: 
> 
> A prompt for ATJ birthday, it also being Pietro &wandas birthday, but no one knew. I know my time is behind you sorry

Pietro had been in a foul mood all day, snapping at everyone and sulking like a moody teenager.  When Wanda and Vision had waltzed out the front door earlier that evening, dressed to the nines and on their way out to dinner, Clint had called Pietro a brat for not wanting his sister to be happy.

OK, it was admittedly a little weird, what with Vision being a robot but happy was happy and Wanda was definitely happy.

Pietro had stomped off to his room after that, leaving the rest of them to enjoy a quiet night in front of the TV.

Clint was the only one still up when Wanda and Vision returned from their date.  Not wanting to disturb them, he scooted down in his seat to give them some privacy trying to bite back giggles at the sound of them hovering, undecided about whether to kiss or not.

“Thank you for a wonderful night”, he heard Wanda whisper sweetly.  “It was the best birthday ever.”

Crap.  Pietro’s foul mood suddenly made sense.  It was the twins birthday today and as far as he knew, everyone except for Vision hadn’t bothered to remember.

As Wanda and Vision depart for their separate rooms, Clint checks his watch.  11:50pm.  Still ten minutes left to fix this.  He wastes five minutes rummaging around the kitchen for supplies but makes it to Pietro’s door at 11:58pm exactly.

“What?!” Pietro growls as he answers Clint’s knock.

Clint sheepishly holds out one of Natasha’s bran muffins with a lone birthday candle on it.  “Happy Birthday?”

Pietro smiles brilliantly at him before wrinkling his nose at the muffin.  “Is that the best you could do?”

“Well, I didn’t see it coming.” he answers jokingly.  “I’ll do better next year.”

“You better.“  Pietro snatches the muffin from Clint’s hand before slamming the door in his face.

God, that kid is annoying, he thinks as he heads back to the TV, mind already racing with thought on how next year he’s going to pull out all the stops to make sure ~~Pietro’s~~ the twins birthday is the best ever.


	3. Captain America To The Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous submission: How about a mini-fill where Clint and Pietro are vaguely arguing about top and bottom?

Steve hates walking in on domestics.  Unfortunately, given the number of couples currently involved with the Avengers it’s becoming a common occurrence. If it’s not Tony and Pepper sniping at each other, it’s Natasha calmly but sternly talking to Bruce.  Or Wanda and Vision giving each other the passive aggressive silent treatment.  Tonight though, it’s Clint and Pietro.

“But I did it last time!” Pietro is whining.  “I’m tired.  Did you not see how far I had to run in training this morning?  You do it.”

“Jesus kid, you’re nearly twenty goddamn years younger me and you’re arguing that you don’t have the energy?  And I think you’ll find that _I_ was the one who did it last time.  Remember?  You started doing it but didn’t manage to finish the job properly so I had to take over!”

“But Cliiiiint!”

Steve can tell this argument is going to keep going round in circles.  He doesn’t like to interject in his teams personal lives but he really does think there’s a simple solution to this one.  “Um, sorry to interrupt guys, but when I was in the army I found a rota system to be really useful for the chores.  It might help?  Like, Monday, Wednesday, Friday it can be Clint’s turn to take out the trash or whatever you’re talking about and Pietro can do it Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday. And Sunday can be a day of rest.”

Pietro looks thoughtful.  “Hmm, that might work.  And we’ll probably need Sunday to rest.  Clint’s not as young as he once was after all.”

“Hey!” Clint interjects.  “I can absolutely manage on Sundays as well!”

“Ok, then Sunday we flip for it?”

“Deal.”

The two men smile at each other, argument resolved.

“Thanks Cap.” Clint claps him on the shoulder as he and Pietro make to leave the kitchen.

“Happy to help.  You have a good night now."  Steve starts pottering about with the kettle, ready to make himself a cup of tea now that he’s settled their argument.  Smiling to himself at a job well done he can’t help but hear the start of their conversation as Clint and Pietro head towards the personal quarters.

"You heard Steve and you agreed.  It’s Saturday, so that means you’re topping tonight.  Do me a favour and use the good lube?  I hate that cherry flavoured crap you like…….”

Steve thunks his head against the kitchen cupboard.  _Fantastic._   He’d just helped Quicksilver and Hawkeye organize their sex life. 

Well, all in a day’s work of a leader.


	4. Angst Alert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For fallenangelwiththetardis How about an angst fill? Hawkeye and Quicksilver stuck in a hydra camp and talking to each other through the vent system?

He doesn’t know how long he’s been stuck in this cell.  More than a day, less than a week is about all he can guess.

He does know how long it’s been since Pietro stopped answering his questions.  2 hours, 13 minutes and 27 seconds.  Those two hours have been the hardest to deal with.

Pietro had been put in the cell next to him, an unneeded reminder that the stupid kid wouldn’t even have been caught if it weren’t for him.  Luckily there was a vent between the cells and Clint had wasted no time at all in letting him know just how stupid coming back for him was. 

“It’s bad enough that you’ve died once for me already.  You’re not a damn cat, Pietro.  You don’t have nine lives.”

Pietro’s faint answer had been glib and soppy and perfect, startling a fond laugh out of him.  “I don’t have nine Clint Barton’s either.”

They’d continued to banter through the vent.   He hadn’t needed to ask if Pietro was hurt, he could hear that he was, Pietro’s voice growing wetter and more strained as the time passed.

Then silence.

He’d yelled himself hoarse in the past two hours, trying to get a response, trying to get someone’s attention.  HYDRA had been feeding them, they obviously didn’t want them dead.  Surely they wouldn’t let the kid die from his injuries?

But then, why deal with two hostages when one would do?  It was a terrifying thought and it had brought Clint to his knees. 

He still knelt, head leaning against the shared wall of their cells, thoughts full of regrets, of the things he’d never said.

“C-c-clint?" 

The weak, pained voice is the most beautiful sound he’s ever said.

"I’m here!  I’m here.  Hold on, Pietro.  You keep holding on.  We’re gonna be fine.”

Clint thinks of himself as a man of his word, he really hopes he won’t be proven a liar.  He was going to get Pietro out of here if it’s the last damn thing he ever did.


	5. Bicycle Thief Meet Cute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt idea (you’re both welcome to try your OTPs in this one; it’s something I encountered today.. kinda)
> 
> “There’s only one place left at the bike stand and woa, that bike looks just like mine; funny. we even have the same lock, I need to remember I parked my bike on the right side. - and cue “are you trying to steal my bike, what the hell are you thinking?! - oh that’s actually yours..? explains why the key doesn’t work..”

Clint blinks, bewildered as the guy in front of him yells in some foreign language.  At least he think that’s what’s going on.  He may have forgotten his hearing aids this morning so it’s anyone’s guess what’s happening.

From the wild gesticulating he thinks it has something to do with the bike he’s been struggling to unlock for the past five minutes.  Which….oh….ok, this might not be his bike after all.  He _thought_ he had parked on the other side of the blog but it’s been one of those days.

The angry man is turning red now, his skin clashing horribly with his strangely white hair.

“Sorry! I have the same bike.  I think mine is over there.”

“That is exactly what a bike thief would say."  Clint can tell from the way the man’s mouth form the words that English is not his native language.  He really wishes he had his hearing aids in because he’s willing to bet that this guy’s accent is sexy as hell.

"Hey”, he says, raising his hands in surrender.  “Look, no bolt cutters, just a key.  Which will fit my lock.”

The man seems to be a bit calmer now and gives Clint a once over that sends shivers down his spine.  Angry bike guy is kind of ridiculously attractive.

“Show me this bike.  Then I might not call the police.”

Is this guy for real?  Clint shrugs and gestures for him to lead the way to the bike racks across the way, losing himself to his thoughts as he watched the lycra clad ass sway in front of him.

It’s only when the man turns, his lips moving on the end of a sentence that Clint realises he’s missed something.

“Sorry, should have said.  I’m deaf. Can you say that again?”

The man looks taken aback but doesn’t stammer or bluster which Clint appreciates.

“This is your bike?”

Clint kneels and easily unlocks the bike.  “Ta da!”

“I apologise. I’m new to the city and I hear bad things…let me make it up to you.”

Oh frick, this guy is adorable as well as hot. Hoping he’s reading things right he smiles and offers, “You can buy me coffee?”

“Yes! Good! I’m Pietro.”

“Clint.”

Yeah, he really needs to start forgetting where he’s parked his bike more often.


	6. Carnival Clint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine Pietro finding [this](http://pietrolovesclint.tumblr.com/post/120797098904/when-it-rains-it-snows-kate-has-loads-of)

The day that Pietro found out Clint used to work in a carnival was possibly the greatest day of his life.

A day which was quickly surpassed when, after ten hours of combing the internet, he managed to find some old promo shots of ‘The Amazing Hawkeye’.

He’d been hoping to find some fodder that he could use to tease Clint and the long blonde boy-band hair certainly fit the bill but the outfit…..

The outfit was like something out of Pietro’s wet dreams…..leather straps over a golden torso and those kinky as hell looking archery gloves ticking all of his boxes.

Pietro’s mouth has gone dry just thinking about how an older Clint, his Clint, would look in that get up. He’s so lost in the fantasy that he doesn’t even hear the archer walk up behind him.

“Goddamnit”, Clint swears, “Vision promised me that he’d deleted all of those pictures from the internet. How the hell did you mange to get hold of them?!”

Pietro recovers from his surpirise and grins wickedly. “Not even Vision is a match for tumblr.”

“Right, let’s have it,” Clint groans. “What will it take for you to promise not to show these to the rest of the team?”

“Weeeeellll…..I don’t suppose you still have that outfit?”

He does. And it looks just as good as Pietro had imagined. God bless tumblr.


	7. Ask Me Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In honour of the Supreme Court ruling....

“About damn time!” Steve’s exclamation drew Clint’s gaze away from the food network to where Cap was smiling over his STARK pad.

“What’s about damn time?”

“Gay marriage is being made legal in all 50 states.” Steve was so busy beaming and tweeting his support that he couldn’t see the look of…wonder..hope…excitement..terror on Clint’s face as he remembered a conversation from eight months ago.

“ _Ask_ _me_ _again_ _when_ _it_ _would_ _be_ _legal_ _everywhere_ _in_ _this_ _country_ _of_ _yours.”_

He’d barely moved from the couch when a blur of blue knocked him back down, a breathless and smiling Pietro looking down at him.

“Ask me again.” Pietro demanded.

“Pietro Maximoff, would you do me the honour of - -”

“Yes!”

His impatient boyfriend wouldn’t even let him finish the damn question but as he’s pulled into a desperate kiss, as they laugh into each others mouths, he couldn’t care less. This impatient, demanding, sexy-as-hell man was finally going to be his husband.

America had done good today.


	8. Pillow Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> incendiarywitch asked:
> 
> If the mini-prompts are still okay: How about one where Clint finds out Pietro doesn't know how to ride a bike~? (Motorcycle or Regular one! XP )

Pietro loves the afterglow. 

I mean, don’t get him wrong, he loves sex.  Sex with Clint is pretty much the best thing ever but the after?  When they’re tangled up and lazy and sharing secrets and pillow talk?  Pietro loves that.

It’s during those moments that he hears about Clint’s childhood, about the circus, Barney, Coulson, SHIELD.  It’s during those moments that he really feels trusted and loved by Clint.

Pietro shares his own tales too, of his life before the war, of the hard times after the war, even of HYDRA.  It’s in those moments that he knows that he trusts and loves Clint completely.

And when Clint surprises him on his birthday with a bicycle with training wheels, after learning that Pietro had never had the chance to learn to ride? It pretty much just proves how perfect he is.


	9. Pietro Loves Lotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> Okay, so - scented hand/body lotion. Hear me out: it's something Pietro's not used to and the sheer variety of scents available is sorta staggering. So, he goes around, trying a bunch out, asking Clint to smell him, and help him pick out a favorite. IDK, can you do something small/quick with that?

Pietro is like a puppy dog let off his leash for the first time.  Clint kind of wants to be annoyed, it’s just a department store for chrissakes, but honestly, it’s more than a little adorable.

The twins had arrived at Avengers HQ with little more than the clothes on their backs and Natasha had insisted that they take the newbies shopping.  When Clint had rolled his eyes and asked why one of Tony’s minions couldn’t just organise everything they needed Natasha had glared at him, glare #9 which was not a glare that Clint wanted to mess with.

So, he’s in the toiletry section of a major department store watching Pietro sniff every bottle and try every sample and telling himself that he is not charmed by this behaviour. (He might be failing on that last count.)

Clint had been a passive observer for most of the trip but Pietro seems to be having trouble narrowing his choice of body lotion down and Clint somehow gets roped into helping.

“I like the smell of this one,” he agonises, holding up the coconut lotion “but this one is good too.  What do you think?“ 

Clint blinks in surprise as Pietro waves his wrists under his nose and only just manages to stand back in time to avoid getting slapped in the face.  Pietro’s wrists jiggle impatiently in front of him and ok, oh jeez, he supposes he’d better smell them.

Taking Pietro’s left wrist in his hand, he inhales the tropical scent of coconut.  It’s…nice.  I mean, it’s not offensive.  It’s, y'know, coconut.  Who doesn’t like coconut?  It just…it doesn’t smell like Pietro.

Dismissing that wrist, he moves on to the right and…oh wow.  This one is incredible.  It’s musky and woody and earthy and as the tip of Clint’s nose brushes across the delicate skin of Pietro’s wrist he realises that he’s desperately turned on right now.

With a nervous cough, Clint draws back.  "The, the right one is nice.  You should get that.”

Pietro still looks unconvinced.  “Really?”

“Yeah."  Clint's voice is rough, too rough, and he feels kind of ridiculous for how strongly he wants to advocate for this particular lotion but goddamn, that’s the one that Pietro needs to get.

Pietro’s eyes widen slightly before he grins wickedly.  "The coconut lotion is edible…..”

_Dear sweet Jesus, this kid is going to kill him._

“Get both.”


	10. Goddamnit Rogers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> bubble gum

Clint is pretty sure that Steve has it in for him.  He doesn’t know what he’s done, maybe it’s the extra leave he asked for or maybe it’s the fact that he cut ab windows into all of Captain America’s uniforms on a dare, who can tell?  The fact remains that Steve is clearly holding a grudge against him.

How else do you explain the smirk he threw Clint’s way when he offered Pietro a stick of bubble gum?

And it must be some sort of Willy-Wonka-magical-never-ending bubble gum too because Pietro’s jaw has been working it non-stop for almost 45 minutes now.

It’s no secret that Clint hates people who chew gum.  I mean, who doesn’t?  It’s obnoxious, and rude and noisy and…Clint has never really noticed how incredibly sexy Pietro’s mouth is before.

Clint had glared the first time that Pietro had blown a bubble, flinching as it popped and trying very hard not to blow a fuse and give Steve exactly the kind of reaction he’s expecting.  But then he’d noticed the way Pietro’s tongue had flicked out to gather the popped gum and the way he’d licked at his soft, kissable lips to make sure that he’d got every last trace of the gum from his face and Clint all of a sudden felt like his pants were just that little bit too tight. It’s then he noticed that Steve was physically shaking, trying to hold his laughter in.

After 45 minutes of torture all Clint can think (well, except for the pornographic fantasies he’s having about the older Maximoff’s mouth) is _Goddamnit, Rogers.  It is on._


	11. Proposal Fic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bet-you-didnt-see-that-coming15 asked:
> 
> For the short prompts thing What if like it's Clint and Pietro's anniversary and such and Clint decides it's finally time to propose to Pietro???

He’d dreamt up and dismissed dozens of ways to ask the question. Everything from recreating their first date (although Natasha said it would be tacky to propose in a pizza place), to getting down on one knee in the laundry room where he first realised that he might have a bit of a thing for Pietro (he defies anyone to walk in on Pietro in underwear enjoying the vibrations of the washing machine and NOT have a thing for Pietro).

Sometimes Clint thinks that confiding his plans to Natasha and Steve had been the worst thing he could have done. It had to be romantic, they said. It had to be perfect, it had to be memorable. Clint just couldn’t come up with a plan that would satisfy them.

After months of rejected ideas and dejected feelings, with a platinum ring burning a hole in his sock drawer, Clint wakes up to the soft snores of a messy haired, clingy Pietro and just knows that today is the day.

He extricates himself carefully from his boyfriend’s sleeping form and eases the sock drawer open, and reaches towards the back, underneath the Quicksilver branded socks that he’ll never let Pietro know he bought, for the ring box.

Which isn’t there.

Panic. Blind panic.

Forgetting to keep quiet, Clint curses and starts throwing socks on the floor, ready to rip the drawer out in case the box has somehow fallen through the back.

“Looking for this?” Pietro’s voice is suddenly in his ear and strong arms are around his waist as he feels the sleep warm body pressed up behind him and sees a familiar ring box in Pietro’s hands.

Clint sags in relief and allows Pietro to turn him around until he’s looking into laughing blue eyes. He watches in amusement as Pietro, in his Sonic the Hedgehog boxers and tatty white tee, kneels down amongst the fallen socks and grins. “Bet you didn’t see this coming?”

Clint laughs at the old catchphrase as he always does and marvels at the cheek. “You mean you proposing to me with the ring _I_ bought? No, I didn’t see that coming!”

Pietro tosses him the box with a roll of the eyes and pulls a different one from where it must have been tucked in the waistband of his underwear. “Well, I thought that once we were married what was yours became mine but if you’re going to be picky…” Pietro opens the box and looks up at him with such hope and fear that Clint can’t help but sink to his knees.

“Yes.”

After celebrating their engagement properly, while Pietro sets about gathering the now slightly soiled socks for the laundry basket, Clint asks how Pietro had known about the ring (Wanda, of course) and how Pietro had known that Clint would propose today.

Pietro scoffs. “It’s our anniversary. Even I could see that coming.”

Crap. Clint really hopes that Nat and Steve have some good ideas for anniversary presents.


	12. Summer Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aceofhearts asked:
> 
> Not sure if this is the right place to throw in a short prompt to help with your writer's block but hawksilver kissing in the summer rain?

It’s cliche. So very painfully cliche and if Clint were to see any other couple do it he’d be rolling his eyes and laying in with the sarcastic comments. He’d saw it in countless romantic movies (movies that had been forced on him, of course) and every time it happens he scoffs and makes pointed comments about how they should be running for the car or shelter and that it’s not gonna be quite as romantic when they’re driving home later in soggy clothes, chafing and irritable.

But here and now, as he feels the press of Pietro’s body against his, as he tangles his hands in the soaking strands of Pietro’s hair, as they laugh into each other’s mouths as the rain washes away their carefully planned picnic, he suddenly understands.

As the warm summer rain plasters their clothes to their bodies until it feels like they’re skin to skin, Clint finally accepts the fact that the movies have it right. Kissing in the summer rain is incredible.

*

He would still like it pointed out that the drive back was every bit as uncomfortable as he’d imagined it would be.


	13. Dating: Sokovian Style?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nikadd asked:
> 
> clint is trying to flirt with pietro, but because of the language barrier, pietro doesn't get what clint is talking about. everyone else knows, and in the end it takes a third party to explain everything to the confused pietro.

Clint feels like he’s banging his head against a brick wall. A particularly thick brick wall.

He’d tried inviting Pietro to train with him in the gym; “But I am a runner and you are an archer. We concentrate on different body parts. It does not make much sense for us to train together. Sam would be more suited to help you. Hey, Wilson? Clint is looking for a gym buddy.”

After putting up with Sam laughing at him during their (surprisingly productive) gym session he thought that next time he should try the more direct approach.

So, he invited Pietro out for coffee; “You Americans and your love of coffee. I do not understand it. I hate the stuff. Vile. Hey, Rhodey? Clint is wanting someone to go out for coffee with him.”

After putting up with Rhodey laughing at him during their (surprisingly pleasant) coffee shop trip he decides to be even more direct next time.

What’s more date like that the movies? “My English is still not so good. It’s too much like studying without Wanda there to translate or Sokovian subtitles. I’m not in the mood. Hey, Wanda? Clint needs someone to go to the movies with him.”

Wanda, at least, doesn’t laugh at him but the pitying looks might be even more annoying. After watching the (not-surprisingly awful) movie Wanda pats his arm consolingly. “I will talk to him.”

So it is that a red-faced and irate Pietro storms into Clint’s quarters later that night. “Why didn’t you say you wanted to go on a date with me?”

“What?!” Clint sputters. “I _did_. I asked you to work out with me, to go for coffee with me, to go to the movies - ”

“Exactly! You just kept inviting me places! Not once did you ask me on a date.”

“But, but that’s how you ask someone out on a date!”

“Not in Sokovia.”

“Well, what do they do in Sokovia?”

Pietro smiles and hands Clint a folded piece of paper. Frowning, Clint opens it to read:

_Will you go out on a date with me? Circle Y for Yes or N for No._

“Uh, Pietro? How long is it since anyone asked you out on a date?”

“Not since school, why?”

Clint shakes his head in fond disbelief, circling Y and handing the paper back. “No reason.”


	14. Wanda For The Win

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> So it's like their one year anniversary (dating, marriage, or what ever you want) and pietro wants to cook clint this amazing meal....only he cant cook to save his life. clint gets home and there's four pots boiling over in the stove and spaghetti on the ceiling and yeah Pietro reaaally fucked up.

Clint used to be jealous of Wanda, of how close she was to Pietro, of how in tune the twins were.  Together, they were an impenetrable force that Clint couldn’t crack through, no matter how close he and Pietro became. 

Of course, in time, he would come to appreciate that bond for many reasons.

There was the handy “twinsight” that Wanda could give him into her brother’s psyche, especially useful when Clint was trying to dig his way out of their latest stupid argument.

Wanda was susceptible to bribery in the form of jewelley and cat videos which meant that Clint’s birthday and Hanukkah gifts to Pietro were always perfect.

There was a more serious side to these benefits as well.  Clint still remembers the terror of realising that Pietro had fallen into enemy hands and the feeling of utter helplessness that followed.  Wanda’s connection with Pietro had been the key to recovering him.  Even with that help, they were almost too late and the thought of what would have been left of Pietro for them to find has Wanda not been able to sense his location was more than enough ammunition for Clint to embrace and treasure the Maximoff’s bond from that moment on.

These days it’s just an accepted part of his relationship with Pietro.  Like the love of rap music or the complete inability to pick up after himself.  Actually, it’s a much more pleasant part of life with Pietro than those examples.

Wanda is a godsend to Pietro in a million different ways.

Take tonight as an example:

The noxious smell drifting from their apartment was Clint’s first clue that something had gone disastrously wrong.  Opening the door to find Lucky whining and clawing to get out was the next.

Pietro rushing out of the kitchen with soot-singed oven gloves and a sheepish expression cinched it.

“Well,” Clint grins.  “This’ll be why Wanda suggested I pick up pizza on my way home.”

Wanda Maximoff.  Relationship Life Saver.


	15. The One Where There Are Killer Ewoks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> reddobastard asked:
> 
> Pietro has never seen Star Wars.

It's the little things in life that Clint takes joy in. Hot coffee. Cold pizza. The fact that the aliens they're fighting today look eerily like Ewoks. Y'know, if Ewoks were violent, evil aliens that could spit acid.

 

It's a thought he gleefully shares with Pietro, who is taking a pause in the shelter Clint is shooting from to get his breath back.

 

“What are Ewoks?”

 

The arrow that Clint had just let loose misses it's target by a full inch but he can't find the mental capacity to care, so shocked is he by the bomb Pietro has just dropped.

 

“You haven't seen Star Wars?! Even _Steve_ has seen Star Wars!”

 

“Is that the one with the guy who sang about Bilbo Baggins?”

 

_What. The. Fuck?_ Clint gives up all attempts at Avenger-ing for a moment to just stare at Pietro, horrified.

 

“Oh my God, no! That's Star _Trek_. You haven't seen Star Trek either?”

 

Pietro's face starts to break into a familiar smirk, no doubt planning to snark about how much of a geek Clint was but something behind him catches his attention and suddenly the ground is rushing up to meet Clint as Pietro launches into action, pushing him out the way of an acid attack.

 

An acid attack that lands squarely on Pietro's chest.

 

Wide-eyed and panicked, Clint desperately fumbles for the vial of Ewok-acid neutraliser that Banner had cooked up in the lab and insisted they all carry, delaying just long enough to land an arrow in the offending Ewok's throat.

 

_Holy sh- -_. The alien substance has already eaten through Pietro's suit and Clint pales at the bubbling of Pietro's exposed skin, knowing that the shrieks of agony will haunt him for a long time to come.

 

The neutraliser does it's job and Pietro's pain-taut body slumps in relief. He radios for evac and finds himself reluctant to let Vision fly the prone, now mercifully unconscious Pietro to safety. He relents, knowing that Vision would never risk letting anything bad happen to Wanda's brother.

 

_Right,_ Clint's face hardens as he reaches for some of his more extreme arrows, _time to make these Ewoks pay._

 

_*_

 

Pietro wakes to a pleasant but unnatural numbness that can only come from the good drugs and the feeling of being watched.

 

Clint is up and off his seat in a flash, pressing the call button for a doctor who pokes and prods at a confused Pietro, explaining how lucky he is and how his accellerated healing should spare him the need for skin grafts, finishing the lecture with how grateful he should be that Clint's quick actions saved his life.

 

_Clint._ He remembers now. The panic when he realised that a jet of acid was headed straight for Clint, the race to knock him out of the way, the all-encompassing pain that followed.

 

Finally alone, and assured that Pietro was not about to die on him, Clint clears his throat nervously. “So..you seem to be making a habit of saving my life.”

 

Pietro flushes, not knowing what to say, definitely not ready to admit just how much the archer means to him.

 

Undeterred by his silence, Clint continues. “And to thank you, I am gonna give you the greatest gift known to man.” He proudly brandishes a remote control and points it at the television in the corner of the room, which clicks into life with orchestral music and rolling text. “ _Star Wars_.”

 

Pietro huffs out a laugh, feeling a twinge of almost-pain in his chest as he does. “I prefer fantasy to science fiction.” he argues.

 

“Sssh!” Clint hisses, settling himself comfortably next to Pietro on the narrow hospital bed. “No talking during your thank you gift.”

 

He mimics a salute and turns his attention back to the screen, shifting restlessly until Clint humphs in annoyance and moves his arm to wrap around him, letting Pietro's head fall naturally against his shoulder.

 

Maybe Star Wars won't be so bad after all.


	16. Pietro with Princess hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok but like Pietro waking up with braided hair because clint couldn't sleep but because pietro is the complete opposite of a morning person, he does t realise until Tony points it out.

You can take the agent out of SHIELD, but it’s harder to take SHIELD out of the agent.

Clint still rose at 5am every morning, rolling on to the floor to begin his day with push-ups, chuckling as a sleepy and disgruntled Pietro threatened to start sleeping in his own quarters.

Another holdover of his SHIELD days is his hair, which he still keeps neat and short, a far cry from the flowing, blonde locks he’d sported before Coulson recruited him. (JARVIS, and now FRIDAY, have standing instructions to delete any digital evidence of this as and when it crops up, all the better to keep certain Avengers from finding out.)

In truth, he misses his long hair but at least now he has Pietro’s to play with. Tangling it in his fingers, twirling it absently as Pietro’s head lies handily in his lap as they watch a movie. Gripping it tight, using it to guide Pietro’s clever mouth as his boyfriend moans between his legs. And sometimes, just sometimes, using it as practice for the elaborately braided hairstyles that Lila was favouring these days (Clint still curses the maker of Frozen on a daily basis.)

That’s what he’s doing, last bobby pin being worked into place, when the perimeter breach alarm starts to sound.

Both men immediately fall into work mode, following emergency procedure to the letter as they make their way, stealthy and alert to the rally point, adrenaline pumping and already itching for action.

Only to be disappointed to find Steve waiting for them with a clipboard and a stopwatch. (Never mind that a STARK pad would do the job better.)

“Good drill, people” Steve compliments when the last of them arrives. “Next time, I want at least 30 seconds shaved off this time. It could’ve been better.”

As Steve dismisses them, Tony starts to cackle. “Gotta disagree, Cap. This was the best drill ever. Pietra? Loving the ‘do. It’s a little more than I wanted to know about you and Barton’s dynamic but it suits you.”

They really need to revisit the conversation about moving off-base.


	17. Karaoke Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> vagabond1985 prompted:Hi, are you still accepting prompts? Since both Jeremy and Aaron can sing, how about a fluffy Hawksilver karaoke night with the rest of the team? Maybe with a little Scarlet Witch/Vision in it? :) Thank you~!!!

Pietro loves his sister, he really does, but enough is enough. It ends tonight. Wanda is going down, the tin can along with her and Pietro and Clint will take their rightful place as the Avengers' cutest couple.

 

From day one, they had been in Wanda and Vision's shadow. The day they had their first kiss, a desperate, frantic meeting of lips and teeth in a New York alleyway as they prepared to face down a maybe-unstoppable foe, was the same day that Wanda had saved them all in an emotional outpouring of power brought on by the belief that Vision had been killed. Their heartfelt embrace had graced the headlines of newspapers, magazines and websites for weeks afterwards.

 

Clint and Pietro's first date, a romantic picnic under the stars at the top of Avengers tower, had been ruined when Wanda and Vision had landed in the middle of their pulled pork sandwiches, Vision touching down having flown Wanda around on a magical tour of the New York City skyline.

 

Valentine's Day had been a wash-out, Steve having already promised Wanda and Vision the night off, apologetic but not willing to allow his team to be down by four. It had been particularly galling to limp back into Avengers Tower, covered in dirt and bruises from helping Spiderman deal with a crazed Rhino, to find the two lovebirds cuddled up and giggling in front of a roaring fire.

 

Hell, they couldn't even beat 'Scarlet Vision' in the controversial couple stakes. A gay couple just couldn't out-shock the world's first human/robot pairing, not even on FOX news.

 

Tonight, though. Tonight was karaoke night and Pietro, having the great misfortune of hearing Wanda sing in the shower, knew that he and Clint had this in the bag. This was their moment. Their moment to shine, to be the cuter couple, the better couple. To finally outdo the sickeningly unstoppable force that was his sister and that damn robot.

 

As the soft melody of Budapest by George Ezra faded, he knew that they had smashed it, the countless hours of practising harmonies and choreography having absolutely paid off.

 

“ _That was incredible.” “Damn, you both got some pipes on you.” “Shut up Rogers, I'm not crying, I have allergies.”_

 

Smug and satisfied, Pietro basked happily in the compliments, enjoying the feel of Clint's sold body pressed close against him, the whisper of soft temples at his temple. _Take that, Wanda!_

 

The feeling lasted all through Tony's Shatner-esque version of Iron Man, Sam's surprisingly soulful rendition of Sexual Healing and Maria's 80s pop powerhouse of a performance. It peaked around the time that Wanda and Vision attempted a truly ear-bleeding version of Sonny and Cher, lasting pretty much right up until the moment Vision dropped down onto one knee, presented Wanda with a ring and asked her to spend the rest of her life with him.

 

_Oh, come on! Could they even get legally married?_

 

Pietro turned pleading eyes on to Clint, already moving to get into position himself.

 

“Hell no, kid. I'm not agreeing to marry you just so you can one-up your sister. This needs to stop! Let them have this.”

 

Grumbling, Pietro grudgingly admitted that Clint may have had a point. Besides, Wanda looked so happy, beaming with joy as she held tightly on to Vision, happy tears spilling from her eyes. Eyes that were searching for her brother, to share this moment with him.

 

OK, maybe they were the cuter couple. Maybe it was time to let the rivalry go.

 

After all, he had a new soon-to-be brother's life to make hell now....


	18. Househusband Pietro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> Pietro who is not-so-secretly just a huge happy housewife for Clint - he doesn't want to fight, he wants to have a family with Clint and his stupid adorable dog.

“ _No, wait. You forgot your sandwiches.”_

 

“ _Pietro, I love you, but I really need to go. Aliens attacking Manhattan? Mortal lives in peril?”_

 

“ _They have my home-made aioli on them.”_

 

“ _...Give me the bag.”_

 

Everyone had assumed that Pietro was just waiting for his injuries to heal before he joined the Avengers. Fight the bad guys, save the day, maybe even get the girl. What's not to love, right?

 

“ _Pietro, they're fine. We would have saw on the news if something had gone wrong.”_

 

“ _Then why hasn't he called, Pepper? He always calls.”_

 

“ _I know it's tough, believe me I know but he's gonna come back home and you can make him feel so guilty that he forgot to call that he'll buy you all the new shoes you could want.”_

 

“ _....”_

 

“ _Or, um, all the new tracksuits you could want?”_

 

Well, Pietro decided from his hospital bed that his fighting days were done, he's already saved the world once and as for getting the girl? It turns out that he's not so much into the girls these days and jumping in front of a slew of bullets, saving the guy you're crushing on in the process, is a damn good way to get the guy.

 

“ _Clint? Why is there a dog in the living room?”_

 

“ _Do you like him? He's cute, right? Little fleabag followed me home. I named him Lucky.”_

 

“ _He has one eye.”_

 

“ _I fail to see your point.”_

 

It's not the easy choice, the one time Stark had even so much as hinted that might be the case, Pepper had shut him down cold. In some ways, being left behind, waiting on the call that you hope never comes, it might be harder than actually joining in the fight.

 

“ _That's it. I'm done. I'm quitting. I'm staying home with you and Lucky and we'll adopt a couple of kids and grow old and boring.”_

 

“ _Please, you're already old and boring and the day you hang up your bow and arrow is the day that I have to pry it out of your hands. Now shut up your whining, take a swig of this and let me set your goddamn shoulder. Honestly, why you can't get Dr Cho to see to this like any sane person.”_

 

“ _Aw, but darling, you're just so genTLE!”_

 

The others might not understand it, he wouldn't expect them to. The world needs the Avengers, yes, but in a lot of ways the people who most need the Avengers are the team itself. Pietro just isn't built that way. Besides, someone has to help look after this bunch of idiots.

 

“ _Where have you been?”_

 

“ _I was taking Lucky for a run..what the hell happened to you?! Are you bleeding?”_

 

“ _What the hell happened to me?! Did you miss the giant ants attacking downtown?”_

 

“ _...Yeah. Must have. I had my headphones on. You ok? You need stitches? You want Chinese for dinner?”_

 

Pietro is good at looking out for people. Some might even say he needs it, much in the same way that the Avengers need to do what they do. Wanda had Vision now, not that she needs anyone to look out for her anymore. Clint needs him, though. Lucky needs him. Pietro sure as hell needs them.

 

For the first time in too long, Pietro is really and truly happy. Just as he is.

 

“ _Oh my fucking God, Barton brought sandwiches.”_

 

“ _You're just jealous 'cos Pepper refuses to bring you snacks at work.”_

 

“ _I am not going to answer that accusation on the case of you being absolutely and completely right but not wanting Pepper to cut my balls off for admitting it.”_

 

“ _Aw man, is that Pietro's aioli I smell?”_

 

“ _Yep.”_

 

“ _And you're not even gonna share with a fellow bird themed superhero?”_

 

“ _Nope.”_

 

“ _My brother takes such good care of you.”_

 

“ _Yeah. Yeah, he does.”_


	19. Mr Boombastic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pietro walks in on Clint's pre-date ritual....

Pietro had seen Clint’s warm up routine before heading into battle. If he’s honest, half the reason he had agreed to go out on a date with Clint was the way his ass looked in those tight trousers as he lunged and stretched indecently, all in the name of preperation.

What Pietro hadn’t realised, was that Clint also had a pre-date ritual, although this one was really best left behind closed doors.

In Clint’s defence, Pietro had arrived early. He probably thought he was safe from prying eyes (although how he could feel safe doing this at all in a Stark controlled building was beyond Pietro. He dreaded to think what Tony would do with footage of this.)

The elevators opened on Clint’s floor and Pietro curiously followed the sound of..was that reggae?..to find a shirtless Clint ‘dancing’ and singing, word perfect, horrible attempt at a Jamaican accent and all, to Shaggy.

Don’t you notice my foot bottom ha ha baby please  
Don’t you play with my nose I might ha chum sneeze  
Well you a the bun and me a the cheese  
And if me a the rice well you a the peas

I’m Mr Boombastic, say me fantastic, touch me in my back he says I’m Mr Ro…mantic

Pietro lost it at the full body roll between 'Ro’ and 'mantic’, his bark of laughter causing Clint to whirl around in horror, staring open-mouthed and in shock as the music continued.

He looked absolutely mortified, like he wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole and Pietro couldn’t help but take pity on him. Part of him really, really wanted to use this. To hold this over Clint for eternity, keeping it like an ace up his sleeve, his assured ticket to getting his own way but, God help him, he must actually be falling for this sarcastic, grumpy, utterly ridiculous archer.

As the chorus started up again, Pietro grinned widely and started to sing along, exaggerating his dance moves until Clint’s face cracked into a smile and he joined in with abandon, the two of them trying to outdo each other, both dissolving into giggles before the end of the song.

Pietro’s heart was racing and as he caught sight of Clint’s flushed cheeks and smiling eyes he knew he was a goner. If he could still find Clint Barton attractive after that? Well, they had a pretty good chance of making it.


	20. He Watched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> reddobastard asked:
> 
> Steve has a crush on Pietro but acts like a decent human being and just asks Clint to treat him like a prince, because that's what Pietro deserves (I Have Silvershield feels.)

He'd been curious about the twins since Maria mentioned them, how could he not be? Steve knew what it took to give everything for your country, even if it meant volunteering to be a science experiment. The twins could hardly be blamed if they'd ended up on the wrong side, what they had done, what Steve had done, it was a leap of faith. Faith that what's coming can't possibly be any worse than what's already there. Steve lived through a World War, he's intimately familiar with that feeling. He had been lucky. They hadn't. _There but for the grace of God_ , he thought.

 

The twins had been just as terrible as they'd said when Steve finally sees them in action but it's not their skills that catches his attention that day, it's their eyes, _Pietro's_ eyes, the eyes of someone who has saw their family and their country torn apart, the eyes of a kid who has had to grow up way too fast, the eyes of a kid who can't slow down. “Stay down,” he'd pleaded, not wanting to hurt him more than the world already had.

 

The twins are brave enough to help them in the end and Steve had felt like the air had been punched from his chest when he saw the small smile on Pietro's face when SHIELD, the real SHIELD had shown up. “This is not so bad,” Pietro had marvelled. Steve knew what that felt like and he wanted nothing more than to make sure the kid..the man, standing before him continued to have reasons to smile like that.

 

Then the world exploded in a scream of grief and red light as Pietro fell, eyes already blank and unseeing by the time Steve got there.

 

He'd watched silently as Pietro was loaded on to the ship, watched as Clint stretched out above Pietro's body with guilt and sorrow in his eyes.

 

He watched with joy as Clint realised that Pietro had started breathing again.

 

He watched with hope as a team of doctors whisked Pietro away.

 

He watched with happiness as the doctors informed Wanda that Pietro would be OK.

 

He watched with understanding as Clint refused to leave Pietro's bedside.

 

He watched with relief as Pietro finally woke.

 

He watched with disappointment as Pietro's eyes immediately sought out Clint. “Bet you didn't see this coming, old man?”

 

He watched Pietro and Clint dance around each other.

 

He watched Pietro and Clint fall in love.

 

He watched as Clint made sure that Pietro smiled every day, watched as the haunted old-before-his-time look in Pietro's eyes was replaced with something lighter, younger, something more free.

 

He watched Pietro's happiness and was glad.

 

“ _Treat him right, Clint.”_

 

“ _Always, Captain.”_

 


	21. Near Death Confessions Don't Count

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> They get locked in a room together, feelings come out, shenanigans ensue

Clint’s been doing this gig for a long time. He knows the risks of what he does and he has contingency plans in place for when the worst catches up with him.

But as he watches Pietro give up hope, as he feels the air get thinner with every breath, he’s filled with regret. They’re a could-have-been, a should-have-been and Clint can’t die without letting him know it.

“We could have been great. I think we would have been happy together. We should have been happy together.”

Pietro doesn’t get a chance to reply before huge green fists rip the door to the air-tight chamber open and the Avengers frantically check them over for injuries.

It’s not until much later that Clint gets a chance to speak to him alone, finding Pietro making his post-evening-run sandwich in the kitchen.

“So..kid. I know you’re new to this whole Avengering business but there’s this unwritten rule that any and all oh-god-I’m-about-to-die declarations are never spoken of again in the unlikely event that you, y'know, don’t actually die. So..are we good?”

Pietro takes a huge bite out of his sandwich before nodding.

“We are good.”

Clint exhales in relief but Pietro isn’t quite finished.

“You can pick me up tomorrow night for our first date. And wear something nice. Not sweats.” Pietro winks. “Yeah. I think we’ll be good.”

That’s not exactly what Clint was going for from this conversation but, yeah, he’ll take it.


	22. Trouble Worth Waiting For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mrsdanieljackson asked:
> 
> After hours of looking though Youtube Pietro comes across Pink's Trouble music video and it breaks his brain a little,Here is the man he has a crush on in leather pants and eyeliner and even though he the bad guy he looks so hot,He has a little trouble looking Clint in the eye after that because of Pietro jerking off while rewatching the video,some how Clint learns about Pietro crush and Pietro learns that Clint still has the costume from the video,Have a wonderful night or day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter specific tags: CRACK! UTTER CRACK!

t was a lot of little things that led Pietro here, here being sat in front of his STARK pad, sticky with sweat, breathing heavily, flushing with guilt at the soiled tissue paper in his hand and mind filled with nothing but Clint Barton (not that the last part was that unusual).

 

Little thing #1: The way Tony jokingly referred to Clint as Sheriff. While it wasn't unusual for Tony to call all of them by nicknames (Pietro was still trying to talk him out of Sonic the Hedgehog), they were normally centred on a theme. For Clint, it was usually archery. _Legolas, Katniss, Merida, Kili, Cupid_. All of those names made sense but nothing got Clint more wound up than when Tony called him Sheriff.

 

Little thing #2: The banner celebrating Clint finally moving into the Avengers HQ permanently saying “Welcome to Sharktown” and the scowl on Clint's face when he saw it.

 

Little thing #3: The way every other Avenger broke out into peals of laughter over the comms, that time they were all fighting those damn turquoise aliens, when Clint had said they looked like trouble.

 

Little thing #4: The full body flinch that Clint had pulled at breakfast this morning when Wanda came in from her morning workout, still humming the P!nk song that she had been listening to in the gym.

 

All these little things led Pietro to google, and to the wonder that was the music video for “Trouble”.

 

Pietro hadn't been sure what he was seeing at first. The first fleeting glimpse of a lean, cowboy-hat wearing figure had made him pause.

 

_That looked a little bit like....it can't be, can it? Jesus Christ, it is._

 

And so it was, twenty watches later, Pietro finds himself getting rid of the evidence that shows just how good he thinks Clint looks in leather pants, eyeliner and cowboy-hat.

 

_Oh crap_ , he realises, _he's never going to be able to look Clint in the eye again_.

 

*

 

That damn video was going to haunt Clint for the rest of his life.

 

It had been an assignment, he had been undercover and it's not his damn fault that the damn casting director had fallen for his act.

 

He can always tell when someone finds out. It's obvious from the way they can't quite meet his eyes for a while without laughing, the constant knowing smirk that they suddenly takes up residence on their face or the second-hand embarrassment that meant they couldn't stay in a room with him for a few days.

 

It was only a matter of time before the newbies knew. Sam had found out first (obnoxious laughter), followed shortly by Rhodey (embarrassed eye-avoidance). Vision had congratulated him on a moving performance and Wanda had secretly admitted to him that she recognised him as soon as she saw him.

 

That had left Pietro as the only person in the damn building that didn't know.

 

Until today. When Pietro had gone rigid, cereal-filled spoon frozen halfway to his mouth as Clint went about his morning search for coffee.

 

It was to be second-hand embarrassment, then.

 

Except, there's something slightly different about the flush in Pietro's cheek, in the way that he breathes sharply through his nose, in the stiffening of his spine, in the dilating of his pupils, in the - - he liked it, Pietro had watched that stupid video and actually _liked_ it.

 

Well, Clint could definitely work with this.

 

Forcing a bland look on his face, Clint casually went about his morning ritual, making sure to pick the breakfast stool next to Pietro.

 

Reaching out, making sure that his arm brushed against Pietro as much as possible, for the milk, he leans forward and whispers in Pietro's ear. “Y'know, I still have the outfit.”

 

As he sits back with his Lucky Charms and watches Pietro try to will away his growing arousal, Clint feels deeply satisfied.

 

He'd always hoped that damn video would make it up to him one of these days.

 

 


	23. Play Fighting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> reddobastard asked:
> 
> Bucky and Pietro don't like each other for obvious reasons (Bucky is trying to take things slow as he relearns to live like a normal human and Pietro is just so tired of slowing down for the Ex-Hydra agent) (Screaming in Sokovian through the whole Avengrs HQ) and while Steve tries to calm Bucky, Clint has to find a way to calm the Speedster down...which is a little tricky.

“Uh, Clint? Steve?” Rhodey's voice sounds so tentative and apologetic over the speaker that Clint knows immediately what's going on. “Sorry guys, but I think you might be needed in the gym.”

 

Of course they are, because God forbid that Bucky and Pietro could inhabit the same space for more than fifteen minutes without coming to metaphorical (and sometimes quite literal) blows. Exchanging a look of misery with Steve, Clint sighs heavily as they make their way towards their boneheaded boyfriends.

 

The harsh sounds of yelling in a mixture of Sokovian, Russian and English assault his ears as they approach the gym. Clint can only follow one of the three languages being screamed but it's enough to know that it's the usual fight.

 

Bucky, still adjusting to post-Winter Soldier life, likes the slow, quiet life and Pietro...well, Pietro can't do slow. It's been a barrel of fun with those two sharing the same space. Not.

 

As they push their way through the doors of the gym, Clint is just glad to see that there's no bloodshed this time. He'll never forget the heart-rending terror of walking into one of Pietro and Bucky's fights to find Bucky's metal arm wrapped around Pietro's throat, squeezing the life out of him. That had been one of the early fights and, thank goodness, they've never been that bad since, normally restricted to yelling and the occasional punch, but Clint still lives in fear of it happening again.

 

He and Steve have this down to a fine art now, Steve wrangling Bucky easily and Clint dragging Pietro away until his back is against the wall.

 

“You good, Cap?” Clint calls over his shoulder.

 

“All good here, Clint.” Steve assures him and Clint can hear Bucky's curses as Steve pushes him out of the room, finally allowing Clint to centre all his attention on to Pietro.

 

He has this part down to a fine art now, too. There's only one thing that will calm Pietro down when he gets worked up like this and, if Clint were to admit it to himself, the method that works is almost worth putting up with these damn arguments in the first place.

 

Pushing a trembling Pietro out the door and towards the open doors of the elevator, Clint commands him to kneel, watching as the shudder of released tension escapes from Pietro's body. Yeah, this part he doesn't mind.

 

*

 

It's late and Clint is sleeping like the dead. Pietro pads out of their room and into the shared kitchen, hungry for pancakes after their earlier activities.

 

He freezes when he sees the glint of metal illuminated by the fridge light. It seems as though he wasn't the only one in need of a late night snack.

 

Bucky closes the fridge door and raises his eyebrow at Pietro. “Pancakes?” he asks politely.

 

“You read my mind.”

 

As the batter is bubbling away in the pan, Pietro stretches and Bucky smirks at the fresh bruises that are revealed as his t-shirt rides up.

 

“Have fun?”

 

Pietro grins lazily. “Always. Definitely worth it. How about you?”

 

Bucky chuckles. “No complaints. You know, we probably should find an easier way to ask for what we want. That's one hell of a right hook you have.”

 

Pietro hums around his pancakes. “Probably. We could always admit that we've been faking the fights since the time you nearly killed me.”

 

Bucky pouts, like he does every time someone brings that up. “I did not nearly kill you, you were barely even blue.” He elbows Pietro in the ribs, causing Pietro to wriggle out the way with laughter.

 

“Jack-ass.”

 

“Brat.”

 

They grin at each other before returning to the pancakes.

 

“OK, we tell them tomorrow.”


	24. We'll Meet Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> iloveniallthenandnow asked:
> 
> I don't know if you're still taking prompts but a WW2 au where they meet over seas during the war. Like Clint is stationed in Sokovia and he's walking along, doing a patrol and he sees Pietro hidden in a tree of something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter specific tags:  
> ANGST  
> MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH (canonical)

He had first met the kid in the forests of Sokovia. A cocky, arrogant resistance fighter who wanted the invading forces out of his country, not caring if those forces were German, Italian or the good old US of A trying to help liberate them.

 

The kid had been hiding in a tree, crashing down on him as he patrolled the forest, knocking him to the ground with a cheeky grin and a “You didn't see that coming?” before fleeing into the trees once more, leaving him with no wounds bar from a bruised ego.

 

He'd picked himself up with a grumble and that should have been the end of it. Would have been, had it not been for the quiet humour of Fate intervening.

 

The local home that he was billeted with in the small village of Kefa, a quiet young woman with dark hair and almost mystical green eyes and her elderly father, was covered in pictures of the quick little bastard who had knocked him down. He'd recognise that hair, wild and untameable, anywhere.

 

The first time the resistance fighter had sneaked home, looking for food and comfort, he had returned the favour and knocked the kid from his tree with a well-placed shot.

 

“What? You didn't see that coming?”

 

He wasn't here for the resistance fighters, it was easy to tell himself that, easy to convince himself not to turn the kid in. The kid's soft curls and sharp green eyes probably made that a bit easier than it should have been, he didn't really like to think about what that meant.

 

The kid returned home periodically to restock and recuperate. He found himself looking forward to each visit more and more until he couldn't hide the truth from himself any longer. As unnatural as the world told him it was, there was nothing more natural than the feelings for the kid that had taken hold in his chest.

 

They disagreed on everything except how they felt.

 

It was the greatest six months of his life.

 

Of course, all good things must come to an end and war reached the sleepy village of Kefa before long. He remembers gun fire and explosions and screams, all the while he kept thanking the stars that the kid wasn't here to see it, to see his home fall into ruin and rubble. They were losing and it had taken all his effort to get the girl and her father to safety before the end came.

 

The end was upon him, huddled in the middle of the village square, shielding the small Sokovian child with his body and as the enemy guns turned towards him, his final thoughts were of the kid. Of his hair, his smile, the long lean lines of his body.

 

The guns roared and he braced himself for the bright pain that didn't come. Opening his eyes, he watched in horror as the kid stood in front of him, riddled with bullets, red bleeding through his ragged uniform as his compatriots ran past him, as the tide of the battle turned in their favour.

 

“ _You didn't see this coming.”_

 

_*_

 

Almost 70 years later, in a dusty street in a flying city, as the stupid, infuriating, arrogant, cocky, indescribably brave kid lay still and unseeing on the ground, Clint feels like he's been here before, thinks he should have saw this coming.

 

Fate has a twisted sense of humour.


	25. Numbers and Rescues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:  
>  I would like to see hurt!Pietro where Clint saves him and the day. Maybe kidnapping ang torture. Or one where Pietro is abused in some ways. All I need is hurt!Pietro and worried!Clint :) :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note, I combined this with a prompt for a continuation of the ficlet which can be found in Chapter 4 of this collection so you might want to go and read that first!

4 hours 38 minutes: That's how long the screams lasted, although he probably couldn't really call them screams by the end, Pietro's voice having given out somewhere around the three hour marker, the remaining 1 hour 38 minutes filled with a gasping, broken wheeze that was almost harder for Clint to bear. Any hope he'd had about HYDRA's need for two prisoners was wiped out after that.

 

7 hours 17 minutes: That's how long Clint waited by the vent, desperately needing to hear something, anything, to let him know that Pietro was alive.

 

1 second: That's how long it took Clint to snap after hearing the broken sob that he thought he'd been waiting for, the broken sob that he would kill never to hear again.

 

4 days: That's how long it took to formulate his rescue plan and put it into action. Four agonising days when all he wanted to do was hold the damn kid and offer him comfort, four days of despair and pain and whispered words of comfort through a rusty, faceless vent.

 

7 times: That's how many torture sessions he'd been forced to listen to while he waited for his chance, each one like an arrow to his soul.

 

13 minutes: That's how long it took to break out of his cell and break into Pietro's. Unlucky thirteen, Clint refused to see it as an omen.

 

27 HYDRA agents: That's how many he took out after seeing what they had done to Pietro.

 

1 hour 32 minutes: That's how long it took to walk the short distance out of the compound, Pietro a dead weight in his arms, barely conscious and barely coherent.

 

1 'I love you': whispered into russet-stained hair, a plea to hold on and a promise for the future all at the same time.

 

2 hours 56 minutes: That's how long it took the Avengers to reach them after Clint called for help, Almost three hours of lying in a cold, damp field, watching the uneven rise and fall of Pietro's chest like the proverbial hawk, silently begging the universe not to take him away.

 

32 broken bones, 28 lacerations, 112 stitches, 1 severe concussion, 1 coma.

 

3 weeks, 4 days, 16 hours, 18 minutes: That's how long it took Pietro to wake up, that's how long Clint waited by the hospital bed, leaving only for minutes at a time.

 

The rest of his life: That's how long Clint promised to look out for Pietro, to make sure that he never got hurt like this again.

 

20 years, 9 months, 18 days, 6 hours, 47 minutes: That's how long it took for Clint to fulfil his promise.

 


	26. Bedknobs and Boyfriends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint getting back from a long mission and finding the kid asleep in his bed. - Anonymous prompt

Clint had spent the past six weeks dreaming of his bed; of purple, brushed cotton sheets and plaid, linen covered pillows.

A month and a half of bedding down in whatever ramshackle shelter he could find had him longing for the comfort of his mattress and the warmth of a winter weight wrapped around him.

Now, as he leans against the doorframe, taking in the shock of white hair barely visible beneath the sheets, the errant foot poking out from the bottom of the duvet, hearing the soft snores of contentment that fill the room, and smelling the familiar minty smell of Pietro’s damp, freshly washed hair….Clint smiles softly.

“Are you gonna stand there all night or are you coming to bed?” Pietro’s voice is sleep soft and perfect and Clint is powerless to stop from crawling in next to him.

“The bed missed you.” Pietro murmurs as he wraps himself around Clint and oh god, this is what Clint had missed, this is what he’s spent the past six weeks longing for, too afraid to admit it to himself, the relationship too new and fresh for those feelings to be voiced.

“Yeah? Well I missed the bed, too.” Clint teases, his touch and the press of his lips against Pietro’s temple telling a more honest story.

Sleep comes easily, and it has less to do with the bed than the comforting weight of warm, soft skin against his own.


	27. Unflappable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halloween Drabble featuring cross-dressing Pietro.

Clint prided himself on his unflappability. He wouldn't be much of an agent or an Avenger without it. Norse Gods walking the Earth; no big deal. Aliens attacking New York; ho-hum. Fighting side by side with a giant green rage monster; must be Tuesday. Pietro Maximoff walking into the Hallowe'en party at the Tower dressed up in one of Wanda's outfits; ok, maybe not so unflappable as he had once thought.

Clint has always had a deep fondness for Pietro's legs. Strong, muscled legs; runners legs. Solid thighs and sturdy calves that he just knew would feel absolutely fantastic wrapped around his waist. Seeing those legs, miles of them, exposed by the short black dress that stopped indecently high on Pietro's thigh was doing horrible, wonderful, things to Clint's brain.

Excusing himself, ignoring the knowing smirk Natasha was wearing, Clint dodged into an empty corridor in order to pull things back together. _Unflappable_ , he chanted softly, as he leant against the wall, resisting the urge to bang some sense into his head. _I am unflappable, Pietro and his goddamn legs do not flap me_.

"Is that so? Well, I have to say, I'm a little disappointed."

Clint groaned loudly as the familiar voice interrupted his lust-induced freak out, causing Pietro to chuckle.

"I mean, do you realise how painful it was to let Wanda wax my legs?"

Clint's eyes immediately drop to Pietro's should-be-illegal legs and he has to bite his lips to keep from moaning as he realises that Pietro is telling the truth, the pale skin looking so soft and touchable and inviting.

"And now you're telling me it was all for nothing and you're not even flapped by it?" Pietro shakes his head mock sadly, his eyes twinkling with mirth as he moves into Clint's personal space, until those bare, soft, firm legs are slotting themselves neatly between his own."And, to think, I even bought some lace panties to wear underneath -"

Clint's hard worn control snapped with a growl. Jesus Fucking Christ, this kid was going to be the end of him he thought briefly before fisting his hand around the leather thongs hanging from Pietro's neck and crashing their lips together until rational thought was beyond him.

Being unflappable was a grossly overrated trait anyway.


	28. Thanksgiving Ficlet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wee drabble for Thanksgiving.

He listens to the others around the unfeasibly large table list what they’re thankful for and decides he hates this tradition.

Pietro is 100% on board with the turkey and the yams and the green bean casserole but this part, the part where they’re expected to speak about their feelings; he’s not a fan of this.

It’s not that he doesn’t have anything to be thankful for. These past few months with the Avengers; the chance to help people; to make a difference to people’s lives; knowing that Wanda is safe and happy; having a bed to call his own in a room that doesn’t have bars in place of one wall; Pietro owes more than his thanks to these people.

Like hell is he going to tell them all that though.

Clint keeps glancing at him as his turn gets closer, almost as if he can sense Pietro’s inner panic. He’s not sure when exactly the stubborn old man who had no time for him became the person who knew him best. He’d never had anybody like that in his life except Wanda.

The more he thinks about it, that might be what he’s most thankful for. He finds himself returning Clint’s glances as the others prattle on about finding Bucky and family and love and the newly designed flash grenades that SHIELD outfitted them with, biting his cheek to keep from laughing as Clint rolls his eyes in exasperated fondness at Nat’s five minute long ode to the grenades.

His turn sneaks up on him, taking him by surprise. What is he thankful for? The answer is our of his mouth before his brain can filter it.

“Clint Barton.”

Pietro finds out later that Clint tastes better than any green bean casserole ever could. Thanksgiving is maybe something he could get used to.


	29. Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 1 of My 12 days of Hawksilver festive challenge

Pietro had loved snow as a kid. Snowball fights where he and Wanda had ganged up on all the other kids; Whizzing down snow covered hills on a plastic sledge, his mama having to kiss his scraped knees better from the inevitable tumble; Building snowmen and stealing Wanda's favourite scarf to decorate with; Hot chocolate in the front room, curled up under a blanket while their papa read them storybooks and their mama held them close.

Snow was fun. Snow was comfort. Snow was his very own storybook version of family.

It's no wonder it changed after most of his family was gone.

Pietro learned to hate the snow. Snow meant shivering and aching, the complete lack of comfort and warmth. Snow meant that the shelters filled up too fast. Snow meant that there wasn't enough food to go around. Snow meant another night on the street, desperately trying to keep Wanda warm.

Snow was his very own storybook version of despair.

As Lila shrieks in glee, Clint grinning wide and dumping a handful of powdery crisp snow down her coat, Pietro realises that it's changing for him once more.

Pietro learns to love snow again. Snowball fights where he and Wanda gang up on the other Avengers; Running fast and light across the white open space of Clint's farm as he pulls a whooping Cooper along in his sledge; Helping Lila steal Wanda's favourite scarf to decorate the snow family that they spent the entire morning on; Hot chocolate in front of a roaring fire, Clint's warm smile melting his heart as he reads his kids a storybook.

Snow was fun. Snow was comfort. Snow had become his very own storybook version of love.


	30. Santa Barton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3 of "twelve days of Hawksilver festive drabbles" : Santa Claus

"Why do I have to dress up like Santa? You're their Dad, I'm pretty sure it's your job."

"Please, Pietro. Coop is making noises about how the kids at his school are saying Santa's not real and he turned the puppy dog eyes on me asking whether I'd been dressing up to leave his presents under the tree and lying to him for the past ten years. He needs to see me and Santa in the same room at the same time. Plus, you already have the right colour hair so..."

Clint was no slouch in the puppy dog eyes department either, like father, like son, and Pietro was no more capable of resisting than Clint was.

"Ok, fine. But you better leave out the good cookies and full fat milk, none of that skimmed crap."

"Deal!"

*

"You happy with your presents this year, Coop?"

"Yeah, Dad! Santa was amazing this year and I can't wait to tell Tommy that he was wrong about it being you leaving the presents."

Clint ruffles his son's head as he smiles gratefully at Pietro. "Oh yeah? Did you see him leave the presents while we had a sleepover in the living room?"

"No, I must've slept through that, they were already there, but I got up for the toilet later and I saw you kissing him in the kitchen. Is Santa Claus gonna be our new Step-Dad?"

Clint chokes on his breakfast as Lila starts jumping around excitedly, screaming that she had to go phone Mom and tell her that Daddy is gonna marry Santa Claus, Copper heading out with her so he could wish Laura and their new Step-Dad a Merry Christmas.

"Hey," Pietro laughs, "you're the one that wanted him to see us both in the same room. At least your plan worked."

"Daaaaaaaad! Mom wants to talk to you." Lila calls out from the living room.

Crap. He's definitely got some explaining to do.

Stupid speedsters and their ridiculous good looks that could make even a Santa suit look good.


	31. Candles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 4 of my twelve days of Hawksilver festive challenge: incendiarywitch prompted "candles"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not very religious and know next to nothing about Hannukah so if I've made any glaring mistakes, please let me know and I will do my best to correct them.

Pietro almost misses it, buried as it is amongst the unholy mix of tasteful, neutral coloured baubles and tacky, multi coloured tinsel monstrosities that threatened to overtake the entire Tower. It's only Wanda's surprised gasp that draws his eyes to it.

A hannukiyah.

Pietro hasn't seen one of them in a long time; an entire lifetime ago, or so it seemed. A life that was full of love and happiness, full of family, gathering around each night to light the candles, his Papa watching closely, guiding his small hand carefully as he gripped the shamash tightly, Wanda whining that she wanted to do it, their Mama promising that she could do it the next night.

He hasn't thought about God in a long time. He hasn't thought about a lot of things in a long time but suddenly the floodgates are open and he's pretty sure he's going to break down right here in the middle of the goddamn room, surrounded by plastic and porcelain Santas. All because of a hannukiyah.

"Is it OK?" Clint's voice sounds from directly behind him and Pietro would curse him out and threaten to put a bell on him if he wasn't so busy trying to blink back the tears that had sprung to his eyes as the memories of Hannukah's past flooded in. "I just thought you and Wanda should have a bit of representation in among all the Santa worshipping."

"It's, uh," Pietro clears his throat, trying to hide the emotion that is making it so hard to speak, "it's great. Thank you." He knows he's failed to hide how much this has affected him, knows it's obvious to anyone with a pulse that he's overwhelmed by this gesture, this stupidly kind and stubbornly thoughtful gesture. 

Clint doesn't mention it though, just nods in acknowledgement and leaves him and Wanda alone with a farewell squee of the shoulder.

Stupidly kind, stubbornly thoughtful and damn near perfect.

The gesture, that is.

It's the first night of Hannukah and the others had offered to leave them alone to light the candle and sing the blessings but it didn't seem right to do this alone. Tony promised to be on his best behaviour and Thor was giddy with excitement at the thought of earning a new Midgardian custom.

Pietro lit the shamash and moved to light the first candle, the once familiar blessing tripping from their tongues as if no time had passed at all. Wanda sounded so like their Mother when she sang that Pietro faltered after a few words, a lump of sudden grief lodging itself in his throat, his hand shaking in mid air.

But then there was a solid weight against his shoulder, and a strong, calloused hand was helping hold his hand steady, and a warm voice joined in the blessing, mangling the pronunciation but still heartbreakingly beautiful.

Clint.

Stupidly kind, stubbornly thoughtful and damn near perfect.

Pietro is maybe ready to admit that he's not describing the gesture anymore.


	32. Christmas Shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of course Clint's realisation that he's in love with Pietro happens because of an Elsa doll, his life is just that ridiculous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 6 of my 12 days of Hawksilver challenge.

"Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to step away from that Elsa doll."

Clint has been dancing around his feelings for Pietro for a while. A long while. A 'since Sokovia' while.

The long vigil with Wanda at Pietro's hospital bedside as they waited for him to wake up, the fluttery feeling in his stomach when bluesy eyes had fluttered open and that ridiculous accent had teased "you definitely didn't see this coming". That was just the start and it seems like every day since Clint has been falling progressively further down the rabbit hole.

Learning that Pietro could play the piano beautifully, his long, graceful fingers coaxing the most incredible sound out of Clint's badly tuned, piece of garbage, baby grand.

The day he discovered that Pietro was a sucker for strays and witnessed the usually caustic, grouchy kid gently cradling a mangy cat, crooning soft Sokovian vowels into its fur.

Watching Pietro risk his life every time they stepped into costume, the way he used his speed to save lives and keep people safe.

The way that he looked running around in that skimpy ass costume, muscles moving under his skin in the most unbelievably distracting way.

It's clear to him now that this realisation has been a long time coming.

This is just the final straw, the last piece of the puzzle. The wake up call that Clint has needed to see what's right in front of his face.

And it's all down to an Elsa doll. Because Clint's life is just that ridiculous.

"This is Avengers business, ma'am." Pietro pulls on his best serious face as he assures the Christmas shopper that everything is in hand and that it's really for their own best interest that they put the last Elsa doll back on the shelf and vacate the shop in an orderly manner.

Clint has to bite back his grin, keeping his own game face on as the woman complies and hurries past him muttering about how she always knew that damn Frozen cartoon was the work of evil doers.

Once the woman is out of earshot, Pietro whirls around, grinning and victorious, eyes bright and filled with a love that Clint is not sure how he could possibly have missed before, as he holds out what is quite possibly the last Elsa doll in the entire state of New York for Clint.

"Here," he says, grin faltering ever so slightly as he takes in the thunderstruck look on Clint's face. "This is the right doll, yes? The one that Lila wanted?"

Clint isn't proud of how his voice cracks "yes" or of how frantically he nods his head in ready assurance.

He is, however, very proud of the way he throws caution to the wind at the sight of Pietro's relieved smile, of how he pulls Pietro - who is still holding tightly on to that damn doll - in for a kiss. It's hot and crowded and in the middle of FAO Schwartz on the week before Christmas, camera phones clicking obnoxiously around them, but, as Pietro melts against him, it's the best damn kiss that Clint has ever had.

Clint's been keeping a tight hold on his love for Pietro for far too long now. It really does feel amazing to let it go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am seriously running out of ideas on this challenge, can you tell (lol)?
> 
> Please hit me up in the comments or (more likely to get a reply) on tumblr at pietrolovesclint if you have any festive/winter prompts.


	33. Christmas Decorations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas prompt! Clint is injured and has to stay in hospital over Christmas, no arguments, so instead of making him miss out, Pietro suggests they take the party to him!

"You really will do anything to keep from having to do some work, won't you?" 

Clint surfaces to awareness to the fond but exasperated tones of Pietro. Oh, crap, that's his "Clint is waking up in the hospital" voice. Clint will never admit that he recognises that Pietro has a particular tone that he only uses only when this happens - mainly because that would be admitting that he ends up in the hospital far too often. Which he doesn't. He ends up in hospital a perfectly reasonable amount of time considering his line of work. 

Not that work had anything to do with this particular hospitalisation. Clint's pretty sure that his last memory is of stretching a bit too far out the window to attach the Christmas lights and.....

"Aw, Christmas lights, no!"

Pietro chuckles. "I really hope you're not holding a grudge against those Christmas lights. It's not their fault that you're an idiot."

"Hey!" Clint finally cracks his eyes open to defend himself, and is stunned to see the offending Christmas lights twinkling serenely at him in the hospital room.

"You decorated my room?"

"Well, Dr Cho says you'll be lucky to make it out of here by New Year so.." Pietro shrugs. "Besides someone had to show you that it is possible to decorate without it ending in injury."

Clint grins, the good drugs pumping through his system making sure he's feeling no pain. "Well, at least I got out of putting the tree up."

Pietro's voice starts to take on the "you are a complete idiot and I don't know why I put up with you" tone but Clint's not fooled; Pietro had taken the time to decorate Clint's hospital room, probably enduring the wrath of the entire hospital staff while doing so. 

Yeah, Pietro loved him.

He may be an idiot, but he's Pietro's idiot.


	34. Who Says Romance Is Dead?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The obligatory cuddling in front of a fireplace fic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For MistressMonster - no cats but I hope you like it anyway!

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire Nat King Cole sang softly in the background, Clint humming quietly along, his lips strumming against Pietro’s warm neck, as the two of them stretched out lazily on the couch.

It was a picture perfect scene; a roaring fire, soft music, two romantic lovers sharing a peaceful Christmas moment - they were practically a Hallmark card made flesh.

Except for the part where Clint was so bored that he would legitimately have welcomed the news that Loki was back and causing trouble. Anything that would give him an excuse to do something other than lie around, lazing with his boyfriend.

_Ok, that sounds bad, doesn’t it?_

It’s not that Clint doesn’t love Pietro, it’s not that he doesn’t appreciate Tony letting them use his cabin in Vermont to get away from it all. He loves Pietro, more than he’s loved anyone in a very long time and getting some time away from the rest of the Avengers where they’re not going to be interrupted or cock-blocked is welcome. It’s so much more than welcome. But, as Nat King Cole segues into Bing Crosby, Clint has finally reached his limit.

“Oh my God, enough with the Christmas music. I’m done, OK. Just, for the love of God, enough.”

Right, well, that was possibly a bit louder and a bit more melodramatic than he had intended. And, oh crap, now Pietro was leaning up on his elbow, neck craning around to look at where Clint was spooned up against his back.

“Pietro…I….” Words fail him as he realises that there is absolutely no way to tell your boyfriend just how unbelievably bored you’ve become with their romantic, festive get-away. Of course, Pietro guesses it anyway.

“Is this your way of saying that you’re not having a good time? That you’re bored here in this remote, romantic, perfect cabin?”

Once Pietro locks those blue eyes on him, those eyes that he once believed he’d never see again, all Clint can do is nod hopelessly, holding his breath and waiting for the inevitable fireworks ( _please don’t tell Wanda, please don’t tell Wanda_ ).

“Oh, thank God!” Pietro cries out, leaping off the couch in a way that showed absolutely no regard for his back or knees - not that Clint is jealous (he totally is).

There’s a blur of blue and silver as Pietro disappears and reappears a second later with their coats. "The resort seventy miles away does snow kayaking. And there’s another one a bit further that rents you scuba equipment and let’s you dive under the ice. I can have us there in less than two minutes. Pick one.“

Clint blinks, needing a minute to catch up with Pietro - a feeling that he’s grown accustomed to over the past few months. "Wait..you’re OK with this? The whole not wanting to spend the rest of the week cooped up and curled in front of the fire?”

Pietro raises his eyebrows, looking at Clint like he’s just said something exasperatingly stupid. "Yes. I, the fastest man alive, was completely happy staying in one place for days at a time. Seriously, Clint? I love you, and I fully intend to show you just how much I love later tonight, on the rug in front of the fire. After we have done something to work up an actual appetite. Now come on, pick one.“

God, he’s got the greatest boyfriend on the planet. "Ice diving,” Clint grins widely as Pietro whoops in excitement and scoops him up, ready to run. "Oh, and we should download some actual music later on, no more of this crap.“

"Fine. But I kind of like it when you sing along to Nat King Cole.”

“OK,” Clint smiles, touched. “Nat King Cole can stay.”

Best. Vacation. Ever. Text


	35. Limits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pietro doesn't know his limits; Clint vows to learn them for him.

Mach 4.

Three thousand miles an hour.

On a good day, at least.

It's easy to read the statistics from a bland, impersonal file and accept them as fact - God knows that Clint had.

And it's not that it's not true. Pietro had just proven it in a mad dash from one end of the country to the other, providing them with the key ingredient they needed to defeat the bad guy, save the day, win the fight.

What Clint hadn't been able to understand from the bland, impersonal file was just how much that the feat would take out of Pietro.

As the others took the weapon out of Pietro's shaking hand with barely a thank you, their minds already focused on the task ahead, Clint couldn't tear his eyes away. From Pietro, who looked like he was about to keel over, sweat drenching his clothes, his breath coming in great, heaving pants that made Clint's own chest feel tight in sympathy.

Wanda, looking as concerned as Clint felt, stepped forward just as her brothers knees gave out, his weight falling against her and threatening to take them both to the ground. Clint wasn't even aware of moving but suddenly the weight of Pietro was in his arms, his skin rapidly cooling, the drying sweat making it damp and sticky to the touch. 

"I got ya, buddy." Clint whispered into damp, sweat-soaked hair, Pietro's head lolling senselessly against his shoulder.

For the first time since joining SHIELD, Clint was willing to let the others handle the day saving without him. There are more important things than being the hero.

Maybe the damn kid will realise that some day too.

Until then, Clint would make damned sure that his file is updated to say that while Quicksilver can run at Mach 4, even he has limits.

Limits that Clint was going to do his best to recognise and make sure that they don't get overstepped again.


	36. Holiday Sweaters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 9 of my festive Hawksilver drabbles

Pietro used to be cool. He used to be a rebel, a 100% bona fide freedom fighter, sticking the finger to the man and stealing what his people needed to survive. Hell, he was practically Han Solo, he really was _that_ cool (despite what Wanda will tell you, don't listen to her).

 

Really, joining the Avengers should have made him _more_ cool.

 

Why then, was he starting at himself and the god-awful bright blue Hanukkah sweater that he was wearing in the mirror, about to voluntarily be seen in public like this?

 

_Oh, right. Clint._

 

More specifically: Clint's kids who had insisted he join in with their holiday tradition of home-made sweaters.

 

Clint Barton was cool. Pietro had seen it the first time he'd laid eyes on him – with the leather coat and the bow and arrow and the whole saving the world thing. Well, at least that's what Pietro had thought. Turns out, _Hawkeye_ is cool – with the whole leather coat and the bow and arrow and the whole saving the world thing - while Clint Barton....well, Clint Barton is a goofball.

 

Of all the indignities that Pietro has had to put up with since he stupidly fell head over heels in love with this man (and there have been _many_ ), this is the worst.

 

This tacky, woollen monstrosity with three-dimensional hanukkiyah and crooked felt lettering wishing all who saw it a Happy Hanukkah!!!!! (yes, five exclamation marks were included and remind him to talk to Wanda about that when he gets back), was the ultimate nail in the coffin of his coolness.

 

_Here lies Pietro Maximoff's former self. May he be remembered fondly by all that knew him._

 

“Uncle P! Uncle P! We wanna see, come on! Come out!” The excited voices of Cooper and Lila pull him from his reflection and Pietro groans in bitter acceptance. Time to face the music. He really hopes that Clint appreciates the things he does for love.

 

As Pietro steps out into the family room of the Barton family home, the first thing he sees is Clint's expectant face. A face that starts to crumple in mirth as Clint struggles to keep from laughing at the sight of his previously cool and hip boyfriend as he was brought down to new lows.

 

Even Laura and her new husband are biting at their cheeks to keep from laughing and Pietro is one, _just one_ , escaped giggle away from storming back into the bedroom and barricading himself in until New Years.

 

“You look sooooooo cool!” Lila sounds a little bit awestruck as she crowds closer to get a look at the gold foil that adorned the tips of each white woollen candle. “Mom, Dad, Uncle Nick – doesn't he look cool? That's definitely the best sweater. Can I wear a Hanukkah one next year?”

 

“Yeah, Mom! Can we?” Cooper joins in with the puppy dog eyes and Pietro is absolutely not preening under all the attention his cool new sweater is getting.

 

“You're ridiculous.” Clint whispers in his ear as they file dutifully into the dining room for dinner, Lila and Cooper still pestering Laura about Hanukkah sweaters and shrieking in delight when they find out that there are eight nights of presents.

 

“I am not ridiculous. I am cool. Did you not hear? My sweater is the best.”

 

Pietro has realised that he just needs to widen his definition of cool because this? This gathering of people he loves and being part of a family and getting to wear beautiful, unique hand-crafted sweaters?

 

This is pretty damn cool.

 


	37. Happy New Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small Drabble for New Years.

It’s nearly midnight and there’s too many damn people in Avengers Tower. Too many people singing off key and spelling their drinks and generally having a blast.

And worst of all, none of them seem to be Pietro.

Clint pushes his way through the crowd, his usually sharp eyes scanning the crowd and coming up blank.

Damn.

Too soon, the countdown starts up - Thor’s booming voice drowning the crowd out as they count down from ten.

10, 9, 8, 7 - -

God, he’d wanted to kiss Pietro at midnight. Call him cliche, call him ridiculous but Clint has spent most of 2015 dancing around his feelings for the damn kid and he had intended to start 2016 the way he meant to go on; with Pietro by his side.

\- - 6, 5, 4, 3 - -

“Looking for me, old man?”

In a flash of familiar blue, Pietro is suddenly in front of him, grinning widely and moving closer and -

\- - 2, 1

\- Pietro’s kiss takes his breath away and Clint knows that nothing will be the same again.

“You didn’t see that coming, did you?” Pietro teases.

Well, maybe some things will stay the same.

“Shut up and kiss me again.”

Here’s to 2016 - may you all have a fabulous year!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all have an amazing 2016


	38. Typical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon prompt: the time Pietro had an inner ear infection

"An inner ear infection?" If Clint sounds disbelieving as he parrots Bruce's diagnosis back to him, it's because he is.

Pietro nearly died (again) because of a damn inner ear infection? That is just so...typical of him. From the minute they met - in the middle of a Sokovian forest where the kid had barrelled through him and knocked him on his ass - Pietro had been nothing but a pain in the ass to Clint.

Knocking him on his ass, getting him shot, mouthing off, kicking dust in his face, saving his life, wearing far too tight shirts, having indecently large thighs, being good with his kids, and now almost letting himself get killed by a damn ear infection. The kind Cooper got four times a year until he was six.

Typical.

"With his metabolism it likely set in fast and would have been neutralised before it caused any harm had he not - -" Bruce trails off sheepishly as he makes a broad gesture meant to indicate Pietro zooming off into the sunset.

Clint sighs heavily (typical, he thinks again) and starts to close his eyes at the idiocy of it all but as soon as his eyelids fall he's seeing the crash all over again.

Pietro, cocky and arrogant as ever, turning to throw him a wink before he sped off to scout the building the hostages were trapped on, trusting his speed to keep him safe from any harm with the blind faith of the young.

Clint had known something was off from the minute Pietro moved, how Pietro's body has weaved left from where it was supposed to go and how Pietro couldn't seem to quite run in a straight line. He'd almost have thought that Pietro had been drinking; if alcohol had any effect on him that is.

Everything had slowed down as Clint saw the grenade being thrown from the roof; as he'd saw Iron Man knock the grenade from its path, as he'd saw Pietro fail to dodge the new path the grenade was taken, as he'd watched Pietro be blown backwards in the explosion as the grenade landed too close to him, as he'd frozen; heart in his mouth; and willed Pietro to walk it off.

As Pietro lay unmoving where he'd fallen.

Just like Sokovia.

Clint had made him promise never to scare him like that again. How typical of Pietro - not keeping his promises.

Clint's eyes fly open as fast as they had closed. He's not ready to relive that again, not just yet. He doesn't know if he'll ever be.

"The sudden use of his speed must have accelerated some of the symptoms," Bruce continued, "dizziness, balance issues..."

"He's going to be OK though, right?" Tony asks the question that they all want the answer to and Clint isn't the only one who focuses more intently on Bruce for an answer.

Bruce hesitates and Clint forgets how to breathe for a second before a familiar flash of blue darts through the infirmary door and Pietro is standing before them, perfectly whole and annoyingly perfect.

"Please," Pietro grins, wide and arrogant and attractive, "I walked it off. After all this time, you still do not see this coming?"  
Jesus Christ, Clint rolls his eyes, typical Pietro.

Not that Clint would have him any other way.

 

 


	39. Romanov Soup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from grace9524:"Pietro is sick during Clint's absence. Clint realize after he came back, then he take care of him."

"You could have called me. I would have come home earlier."

Pietro looks blearily up at him, eyes shot through with red, and coughs pitifully. "Don't be stupid, old man. You were on other side of the world saving many lives. Is just a cold."

"Just a cold?" Clint scoffs. "The way Wanda tells it you went out in battle while you were ill and collapsed in the middle of a burning building. Rhodey had to fly you out of there. What were you thinking? You could have got yourself killed."

"I never liked Wanda." Pietro grumbles, burrowing deeper underneath his duvet.

"Liar."

"I never liked you either."

"OK, now you're just being ridiculous."

Clint sighs as he settles on to the bed next to Pietro, stripping off his archery gloves and tossing them on to the floor before he runs his hands through damp, white hair, smiling fondly as Pietro mewls in pleasure. This wasn't exactly how he'd pictured his homecoming but he has to admit that there's something incredibly endearing about Pietro like this.

"Well, I'm here now. There's no lives to save, no missions to go on - just a super ripe, super bungled up boyfriend to take care of so here's what we're gonna do. I'm gonna run you a bath, change the sheets, get you some of the famous Romanov soup and annoy you until you're not leaking snot everywhere. Sound good?"

Clint grins as the Pietro shaped lump of bedding nods minutely.

"Te iubesc." Clint is half way to the bathroom when he hears the soft words, Pietro's red nose peeking out from beneath the bedsheets.

"Now that I do believe," Clint smiles. "I love you too."


	40. I Love You Prompts - part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Number 26: Broken, as you clutch the sleeve of my jacket and beg me not to leave.

“ _Please_ ,” Clint’s words form sloppily around gasping, wet breaths that reach into Pietro’s chest and squeeze his heart. He doesn’t need a doctor to tell him what those gurgling, wet sounds mean. It’s nothing good and Pietro needs to get help here now - hell, he needs to get help here five minutes ago - but Clint is clutching weakly on to the skimpy material of Pietro’s uniform and begging him not to leave.

“Please, Pietro, I don’t wanna die alone.”

Pietro blinks back the tears from his eyes and lashes out with the hand that isn’t currently cradling the back of Clint’s head, his fist crashing into the trunk of the oak tree that he’s laid Clint against, the pain of broken skin and chipped bone a distant echo compared to the pain of watching Clint bleed out internally without being able to do a damn thing about it.

He can’t carry Clint, not like this. The strain that the speed would put his already broken body under would kill him faster than his injuries could. No. His only choice is to leave Clint, to get help, to come back, to pray that he gets help in time.

He’s not sure he’s fast enough.

Clint would get such a kick out of that, he thinks; him, finally admitting that he’s not infallible, finally admitting some self-doubt. The old man had always thought he was too cocky.

God, he wishes he could muster some of that surety now.

As blood bubbles up around Clint’s lips, Pietro muffles a sob. He has to try. He couldn’t live with the guilt if he didn’t. Never mind, that he’s not sure he can live with the guilt if he fails.

Clint can see it in his eyes, the decision to leave, and he tries one last time, using what little strength remains to grip Pietro tighter, to make him stay.

“No, don’t, please.”

Pietro pulls free and with one last, _one first,_ kiss to Clint’s damp, sweat soaked forehead, he turns to leave.

“I love you, please, stay.”

Pietro lets the tears fall. Love is exactly the reason that he needs to go.

He’d like to believe love is the reason that he’ll make it back in time.

He’s not that naïve.

He wishes he was.

“I love you too.” A whisper.

Pietro runs.


	41. I Love You Prompts - part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt number 2: With a hoarse voice under the blankets

As morning came, Clint started to think that, as fun as it had been, Tony might have been a bit _too_ successful in his attempt to distill an alcohol with enough punch to get Pietro drunk.

Where his normally chipper boyfriend lay was a pile of blankets with just a hint of white hair poking out to indicate that there was anyone under them.

Clint poked at the vaguely Pietro-shaped lump and grinned at the inhuman groan that followed. It’s possible that he was having a little too much fun at the tables being turned but he didn’t care what that said about him, he was going to enjoy every second of Pietro’s alcohol induced torment.

“Come on, Pietro,” he teased, “up and at ‘em.”

A muffled moan is the only response he gets and Clint knows he can do better.

“Come on, kid. What you need is the biggest, greasiest, runniest, egg roll. With a few rashers of bacon on the side and a massive helping of tomato ketchup.”

Clint has to bite his cheeks to stop from laughing at the distressed noises of displeasure coming from inside the mound of blankets. He’s pretty much decided that hungover Pietro is the best thing ever when the sound of dry heaves start to prickle at his conscience.

 _Goddamnit_.

Crouching down, he sets his hand on top of the blankets, where he’s guessing Pietro’s shoulder is. "Alright, alright. No eggy deliciousness. I’m gonna go and get you some aspirin and a pitcher of water, OK? I promise it’ll make you feel better.“

“I love you.” Pietro’s voice is hoarse and thin sounding, wrecked and wretched and all Clint can think is ‘ _goddamnit, he’s_ _ruined it_.’

Damn kid being all adorable and loveable and making it impossible for Clint to gain joy from his suffering.

He’s just lucky that Clint loves him too.


	42. I Love You Prompts - part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt number 25: in a blissful sigh as you fall asleep

Pietro had spent so long fearing the night time. Not because of the dark; what point was there in being scared of the monsters under his bed when the monsters in his head were so much bigger. For too long he'd dreaded those moments before sleep overcame him, when he fell prey to the nightmares.

Reliving the deaths of his parents, the tortures of HYDRA, were the easier ones to deal with. The ones that made Pietro really afraid were the ones in which none of that had happened, the ones in which he had a normal, happy life. Those were always the hardest ones to shake.

Clint changed all that.

Clint chased away the darkness and the monsters and, with strong arms wrapped around him and warm breath tickling his skin, Pietro wasn't afraid of the night time anymore.

He cuddles in close, smiling sleepily as Clint grumbles something about cold feet and stupid kids.

"I love you," he sighs, blissfully as he welcomes sleep, eyes drifting shut.

"Love you too."


	43. A Rush Of Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if Pietro had similar powers to Wanda as well as his speed? What if he didn't know until he really needed to?

Wanda goes down hard and Pietro can feel it in his every molecule.

He can hear Cap screaming at him to hold the line; Clint yelling at him, begging him to stay back, but it's a background noise. Everything feels like it's fading into the ether in the midst of the complete absence of Wanda he can feel within his bones.

The blink of time it takes to reach her feels like an eternity, every inch of him desperate to reach her, and the sight of her broken body in front of him brings him to his knees.

Too late.

Not good enough.

Too slow.

What the hell good was this power of his when it couldn't even let him protect his sister? All the pain they'd endured, the weeks of torture disguised as experiments, and where did it get them? Pietro can feel Wanda's blood soaking into the fabric of his trousers and it's too much.

He snaps.

His world explodes in an icy burst of blue power. The pain that rips through his mind and body is nothing compared to the aching emptiness in his heart. Wanda's voice calling his name is the last thing he hears before the blackness overtakes him. He falls into nothingness with a smile on his face.

He awakens in stages. He can feel a large, calloused hand squeezing his own. Clint, his mind supplies - even in death he'd know the feel of those hands against his skin. Except he can't be dead if Clint's here, can he? Or is this what heaven feels like? There's another hand, smaller, softer, just as familiar stroking through his hair and his heart leaps, causing a shrill beeping noise to force its way into his consciousness.

Wanda.

Gasping, Pietro bolts upright, eyes wide and panicked as he takes in the familiar sight of the infirmary, the even more familiar sight of a concerned Clint and Wanda at his bedside.

"You - you - were...you d- -", Pietro chokes on his words, as much from the inability to vocalise the cold, hard thought that Wanda had been dead than from any lingering hurt.

"Easy, kid."

Pietro bats Clint's hands away, glaring. Easy? The old man wants him to be easy when all he can remember is Wanda's unseeing eyes staring up at him, her broken body on the ground. Nothing about that was easy. He scrambles madly, reaching for Wanda, seeking her touch, needing to feel her skin against his, needing to hear the rush of blood and oxygen that would prove beyond a doubt that she was really here.

"You brought me back," she whispers against his neck, her breath sending a ghost of shivers down his spine. "You brought me back. I'm OK. I'm here."

Pietro's chest expands, a deep breath, inhaling the sweet, floral scent that is Wanda into his lungs and he relaxes.

This is real.

She's here.

Clint's here.

He's here.

With Wanda pressed against him and Clint's warm, steadying hand on his shoulder, Pietro laughs.

"Does this mean that you can run fast, too?"

Wanda pulls back just far enough to meet his eyes, smiling widely. "You want to race and find out?"

Clint doesn't let them race right then, pushing Pietro back against his pillows and growling at him to at least wait until he's discharged from medical.

Pietro indulges him just this once, lets him fuss with the blankets and grumble over what's taking Dr Cho so long.

He has his sister and Clint.

For the first time in a long time he isn't in a hurry to go anywhere.

 

 


	44. Civil War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A civil war of the human/K9 variety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For isisanubis

“I can look after him.” **  
**

Pietro couldn’t really blame Clint for the look of incredulity on his face.  But he was going to anyway.  

“ _What?_  I am perfectly capable of looking after a dog for one night.”  Pietro stubbornly crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to puff up in pride as Clint’s gaze drifted down towards the curve of his biceps.  Unfortunately, Clint’s momentary distraction didn’t last long as he caught himself and lifted his eyes to meet Pietro’s.

“I’m not saying that you can’t take care of a dog.  I’m just…surprised that you want to look after Lucky.”  Clint was trying to be polite but all Pietro could hear in his words was “ _you hate my dog and that’s why I could never date you_.”

“I love Lucky,” Pietro insisted.

Clint remained unconvinced.  “Even after he destroyed your trainers last week?  Or peed all over your bed the other day?”

Pietro gritted his teeth.  “Of course,” he lied.  “He was just being a dog.  I love dogs.”

Clint seemed to be wavering and Pietro could taste victory in the air.

“What about the time you took him for a run and he got your legs all tangled up in his lead and you fell and broke your nose?”

Or maybe not.  

That one had really, really hurt.

Pietro sighed.  “Clint.  I promise that I do not hate your dog.  And I promise that I can look after him tonight.  Go.”

Clint went.

* * *

Pietro hated Clint’s dog.  

Or, to put it more accurately, Pietro and Lucky mutually loathed each other.  He was half convinced that Clint had found the dog wandering the seven circles of Hell instead of the streets of Bed-Stuy.  If the damn beast had belonged to anybody else Pietro would have kept well away but, and here’s the thing, Clint loved that damn mutt so much that Pietro knew, beyond a doubt, that he had no chance with the Avenger if he didn’t learn to get along with him.

Hence, the offer to dogsit.

The offer that Pietro was starting to really regret making.

Clint left and as soon as the lock clicked to signal the shutting of the front door, Lucky had morphed from a genial, waggy tailed ball of fluff to pure, unadulterated hellhound.

A pure, unadulterated hellhound who managed to jump the window ledge and scamper down the fire escape to freedom.

Hell, no.

Not on Pietro’s watch.

Logically, a small demon dog should be no match for the fastest man on Earth and while it’s true that Pietro did emerge victorious from their battle through the streets and alleys of Brooklyn, it was a very ragged, bruised and scraped Pietro that awaited Clint when he returned.  

Clint stared.

“So,” he finally asked, a tinge of amusement in his voice, “how did it go?”

Pietro glared.

“Pietro,” Clint sighed, “you know that it’s completely OK if you don’t love my dog, right?”

Pietro shrugged, wincing at the way the movement pulled at his ribs which were tender after chasing Lucky face first into a dumpster.

“It’s not going to make me love you any less.”

_Wait, what?_

“Jesus, kid, you’re an idiot, you know that?”

“But…you love Lucky.”

“Yeeees.  But it’s a very different kind of love.  I can feel both at the same time.”

“But, what if…”

“Pietro?”

“Hmm?”

“Shut up and let me kiss you.”

Pietro did.  

And if he woke up the next morning to find that Lucky had chewed his way through each item of clothing that he had left scattered on the floor from the couch to Clint’s bedroom, then it was just a good excuse to stay naked in bed with his boyfriend all day.

Check and mate.


	45. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have an idea for a prompt. It’s Pietro’s first night staying at the farm with Clint. He’s scared about spending the night in the same bed as Clint with his kids just down the hall and Laura isn’t there. Eventually, the kids make their way into their bed for various reasons and they help ease Pietro and show him that they all love him and accept him as a parental figure. Laura is not at the farm for whatever reason you like and she and Clint are either divorced but still friends & care for each other, were never married but still had the kids including Nathaniel, or they’re brother and sister.

"Maybe I should sleep on the couch," Pietro said from the doorway, hesitating to enter the room.

Clint frowned in confusion. "What? Why?" He chuckled. "Don't tell me you've come over all moralistic all of a sudden? It won't exactly be the first time we've shared a bed, y'know."

"No, I know," Pietro answered. "But it's different here." Pietro cast a wary look down the hall towards the closed doors before continuing. "I mean, your kids are _right down there._ "

Clint rolled his eyes. "Are you serious? My kids know that we're together. Or have you missed the fact that they call you Uncle P? Or the drawing taped to the fridge with Mommy, Daddy, and Daddy's boyfriend in it?"

Pietro still looked unconvinced.

"Jesus, Pietro. Laura's going to be gone on this romantic vacation for the next week and there's no way in hell I'm gonna have you sleeping on the couch the entire time. Now, get in the damn bed!"

Hours later, Clint was sleeping soundly, little whistling snores escaping from his lips, and Pietro couldn't sleep. Every little creak and moan of the unfamiliar Barton farmhouse made him pine for their room in the Avengers compound.

Their room which had a blessed lack of impressionable minds sleeping only feet away.

It's not that he doesn't love Clint's kids - he does, with his whole heart - but there's just something off about being in this house, the _Barton_ house, like this. He feels like an impostor. He's not family, not really, and being surrounded by the history of Clint and Laura's life here with the kids makes him all too aware of that.

There's scratches in the paintwork of the kitchen door marking the varied heights of three kids over the years, ceramic hand prints and foot prints hung on the walls. It's all so picture perfect and enviable that Pietro isn't really sure where he fits in.

"Daddy?"

A small, sniffling voice intruded on Pietro's thoughts and he froze, panicked. Nathaniel shuffled into the bedroom, his purple blanket trailing on the floor behind him, clenched in his little fist.

"Daddy? Is you 'wake? I had a bad dream."

Clint snored on, blissfully unaware. Pietro heard the familiar hitching breath that usually preceded Nathaniel's heart rendering sobs and scrambled upright, startling the sobs right out of him.

"Hey, Nate," he whispered as he crouched down in front of the boy. "You had a bad dream?"

Nathaniel nodded as he moved his fist up to rub sleepily at his eyes, never letting go of the blanket.

"You want to tell me about it?" Pietro asked, grasping at straws, completely unsure of how to handle this.

Nathaniel shook his head, his lower lip starting to tremble and Pietro settled closer to him, close enough to pull him in for a hug, cooing gently at him as his small, chubby arms wrapped around Pietro's neck.

It reminded Pietro vividly of how his own father used to comfort him. Back before his bad dreams were eclipsed by the tragedy of his real life. A sudden flash of inspiration, of nostalgia, hit him.

"Do you want to stay and sleep here?" he asked.

Nathaniel's ready acceptance made him smile.

"OK, buddy," he said, picking Nathaniel up and helping him burrow under the covers. "You have to be quiet though because your Daddy is still asleep."

"I will," Nathaniel whispered, already halfway to unconsciousness. "Love you, Uncle P."

Pietro smiled.

"Love you too, puișor," he said to a happily sleeping Nathaniel.

"And you said you were worried about the kids sleeping down the hall."

Pietro huffed in exasperation. Of _course_ , Clint was awake.

"Shut up," he sighed. "Go back to sleep."

"'K," Clint replied blearily, already following Nathaniel back to sleep.

Pietro smiled as he watched father and son sleep peacefully beside him. It felt nice. It felt like family.

Pietro rolled over and finally let sleep claim him, relaxed and content.

He was really glad he hadn't taken the couch.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
